


Street of Angels

by Shell Forest (shell_forest)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shell_forest/pseuds/Shell%20Forest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Solace is a broke med student and Nico di Angelo is the creepy exorcist living upstairs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Street of Angels

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by The Music of Erich Zann by H.P. Lovecraft. It's awesome. All of you guys should read it.
> 
> Warning: Graphic depictions of gore

 

 

Rue des Anges is the street of the devil, or so Will Solace was told.

It was probably once very beautiful. The entire street was paved in cobblestone, and its buildings were tall and lined with bricks, each of them capped with gable rooftops. Will could imagine a time when the buildings shone with fresh coats of paint and the sun reflected off the street, basking the entire place in its soft glow.

But that would have been decades ago, because Rue des Anges was nothing if not old. What was left now was nothing more than an ugly carbon imprint of a picture that had been copied too many times. The tall buildings towered over the street almost hauntingly, and its bricks were mossy and dull. Vines snaked up along rusting iron lamp posts, and the cobblestone road lost its charm and appeal and instead cracked around the edges leaving random holes where weeds would sometimes sprout.

Needless to say, it was the farthest place from home imaginable, which was kind of the point. Will rented a small flat on the fourth floor of the tallest building on the street owned by Mrs. Demeter Hayes, a distant relative of his who was probably as old as the building itself. She handed him the keys to his flat with barely half a glance and said, “Let’s see how long you last.”

That wouldn’t have been the first time someone said something ominous about his new lodgings either. When he told Lou Ellen about it over the phone, she sniffed and told him, “I don’t care how poor you are. Rues des Anges just _screams_ trouble. You go in with your head intact, you go out crazier than a Mr. D.” Will laughed and told her he’d be fine. He didn’t let her deter him because really, the flat wasn’t so bad if you ignored the roaches that would creep around in the dark and the suspicious reddishness of the water coming from the kitchen sink. Plus, it was only a ten minute walk from his university which was more than anyone else could say.

And besides, there was something about the prospect of living in a street of demons that appealed to Will in some macabre way. He didn’t tell that to Lou though.

 

 

Will had a grand total of four neighbors. The first was obviously Mrs. Demeter who lived in the only flat on the first floor. Then there was Clovis, a sleepy man who greeted Will every morning while getting the papers. Hecate lived in the second floor as well. She was a tall Gallic woman who looked to be in her early thirties and always invited Will inside for coffee. He almost agreed the first time but the slightly delirious gleam in her eyes changed his mind.

Then there was Nico di Angelo. He supposedly lived in the fifth floor right above Will (the third floor was empty), but he never actually saw him. Nor did anybody for that matter, except for Mrs. Demeter.

“That boy is downright useless,” complained Demeter loudly as soon as Will brought up the topic. “Comes in at midnight, leaves at dawn. Never bothers to help with the plumbing. You know, I told him I could get him some oatmeal since he looked so tired, and you know what he said? _No thanks!_ The _nerve_ of that boy!”

Will nodded, suddenly thankful he accepted the box of cereal Demeter offered him earlier. “Why would he stay out for so long?” he asked.

“Hell if I know,” said Demeter. She gave him the stink eye. “What’s got you so interested?”

Will smiled, dimpled and perfect in a way that he knew distracted everyone. “Oh, nothing.”

Truthfully, Will was intrigued by the man living in the floor on top of his since his first night in the building. Will usually stayed up well into midnight studying so he was wide awake when he heard the creaking of stairs (the building’s elevator was chronically dysfunctional) and the slam of a door followed by soft and strange music.

It was a viola, Will determined. Or some similar string instrument. Whatever it was, it had an eerie quality to it as it played peculiar harmonies Will had never heard of before; which in itself was suspicious because Will’s father was a composer as well as a surgeon so he grew up listening to every symphony in existence. Will enjoyed the strange music. It was twisted, foreboding, and utterly original in a way that implied pure genius. It was then that Will decided he would make Nico’s acquaintance, which in hindsight was easier said than done.

Will got his chance three weeks into his stay at Rue des Anges. It was a Sunday and the finals were thankfully over so Will took his chance to wake up early and go for a jog. He quite literally bumped into him in the front lobby.

“ _Ow_.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I, uh, didn’t see you there.”

He was small, the top of his head barely reaching Will’s chin, with dark hair that stuck out in all directions and bags under his eyes. He gave Will an irritated glare that stiffened the hairs on the back of his neck. “’s’fine,” he mumbled. “Who’re you?”

It took a moment before Will was able to process that the dark haired man (boy? He looked so young. Probably not even twenty) had asked him a question. “Oh, uh, Will. Will Solace. I live in the fourth floor. You must be Nico di Angelo, right?”

He nodded, tilting his head a bit as if silently analyzing him. Will smiled while his head struggled to fit the image of the dark evasive man in the fifth floor with this scrawny kid in an aviator’s jacket.

After an awkward pause, Nico cleared his throat. “Well it was nice meeting you, Will. I’ve got to go.”

Will blinked. “Oh, right. Yeah, see you around.”

Will watched through the window as Nico di Angelo got in the passenger seat of a sleek black car and drove away feeling oddly unsatisfied.

 

 

The second time Will saw Nico di Angelo, he was lugging a skeleton up the stairs.

It was the middle of the night and Will was already in bed, drifting into sleep when he heard a loud series of thumping coming from outside. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments, vaguely considering what to do, when he heard a loud crash and severe swearing. Will put on some slippers and stepped outside. He found Nico di Angelo struggling halfway up the wooden stairs coming from the third floor with a human skeleton tied to his wrist.

“Need some help?”

Nico looked up and narrowed his eyes upon seeing him. “ _Don’t_ ask.”

“Wasn’t going to. Like I said, need some help?”

Nico glanced back at the skeletal figure hooked onto his wrist. “I guess.”

They managed to haul the skeleton up to the fifth floor to Nico’s apartment (the skeleton was in fact very real). Nico fumbled with his keys (a ring of what seemed like more than fifty; all unlabeled) before slotting the right one in and opening the door. He hit the lights, and Will noted with a hint of jealousy that the flat was much cleaner and bigger than his own.

“Thanks, I can take it from here,” said Nico, offering a tight lipped smile, probably the closest he ever got to actually smiling.

“Sure thing.” Will was about to head back until a sleek brown object inside Nico’s apartment caught his eye. A viola. He doubled back (which was probably a really bad idea) and said, “Hey, by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, do you happen to play the viola?”

Nico looked up—he was in the middle of cutting off the rope binding his and the skeleton’s wrists. “What?”

“It’s just, I always hear music coming from up here and I was wondering if you were the one playing.”

Nico looked extremely confused for a moment, but then his face cleared with understanding. His cheeks flushed a bit. “Oh, _that_. Yeah, it was me. Uh, sorry about that. I’ll try to keep it down next time.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I actually really like the pieces you play. Did you compose them yourself?”

Nico tensed. “No,” he said curtly. “My sister did.”

“You have a sister?”

“Yes.” Nico looked away, seemingly determined to avoid eye contact. “I…don’t really want to talk about it.”

And Will probably should have left it there, greeted him good night, and retreated back to the fourth floor. Nico with his creepy dark eyes and probably-legit-skeleton was the very epitome of all the ominous warnings Lou Ellen and the others have been telling him about Rue des Anges. But Will couldn’t help but be drawn to the mystery that was Nico di Angelo and his vaguely threatening music. Curiosity got the better of him so Will said in what was probably the riskiest thing he’d ever done (which wasn’t saying much): “Actually, I was thinking, it’s almost Christmas break, and I haven’t really got much to do anymore. And I know it seems like an odd request but would you mind if I come up here every now and then to hear you play?”

Nico blinked, disbelieving. “What?”

Will grinned. “I can bring up my harmonica and we can do a duet. Or my guitar. I’m pretty bad at it, but I get by. I took lessons when I was a kid.”

“That’s…nice.” Nico looked terribly uncertain with himself and Will almost pitied him but he was too busy trying to tame the jittery feeling in his chest. Nico seemed to make up his mind and decided to glare at Will. “You’re a weird one. Aren’t you at all freaked out by the skeleton or the glassed internal organs?”

Will looked around and noticed that there were indeed jars with various internal organs stacked along the shelves. Talk about stereotypical creepy Halloween kid. He shuddered a bit then shrugged. “You’re not the first eccentric I’ve run into. Hecate is freaky. Also, I’m a med student. I’m kind of used to this stuff, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Nico gave him a scrutinizing glance, as if judging him from inside out. Will felt a bit uneasy but his smile stayed in place. Nico then sighed dramatically and said, “Well, if you want to then by all means go ahead.”

That was how Will found himself up on the fifth floor every other Thursday, sitting on Nico’s black couch listening to his host play haunting melodies on his viola. After an hour or so, Nico would set down the instrument and pull out a few fruits from the refrigerator, tossing one to Will, and they’d chat for a while before Will headed back to his own flat downstairs. Given, it was incredibly awkward at first, but Nico gradually eased into Will’s company, losing some of the tension in his shoulders. Will in turn was little by little able to piece together more information about his secretive neighbor.

“So what do you do anyway?” Will asked casually one evening as he picked some grapes off of their stems. “You’re out the whole day. Tough job?”

Nico gave him a tired smile. “Nothing interesting.”

Will raised an eyebrow but decided not to push it. “Alright then,” he said, opting for another approach. “Okay, here’s another, how old are you? You’re still in college, right? You study nearby?”

Nico shook his head, thumbing a pomegranate in his hand. “I’m nineteen, dropped out of high school. Nothing worth mentioning, Mr. 4.0 GPA.”

Will snorted. “Ha, I wish.” He plopped another grape into his mouth, swallowing it too quickly. He felt the dry skin stick to the back of his throat and coughed. “Okay, here, last one.” He tried to sound as casual as possible. “You said your sister composed those songs.”

Nico instantly tensed, his back drawing up and eyes narrowing—an immediate warning sign, but Will pushed on. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what happened to her?”

Will held his breath. He wasn’t sure if Nico would answer. Maybe he’d kick him out. The silence probably lasted for less than a few seconds but it felt like hours. Finally Nico eased back on the couch, keeping his eyes focused on the wooden flooring. “Her name was Bianca,” he said quietly. “She died.”

“Oh.” Will expected that, but it felt different having it confirmed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“’s’alright,” said Nico, his eyes downcast. “It was years ago anyway. I barely remember her.”

Will didn’t really know how to respond to that so he placed what was hopefully a comforting hand on Nico’s shoulder. “Hey, I’ve been there too,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “I had a brother, his name was Michael. He was sent to Iraq to serve. Didn’t come back.”

Nico lifted his eyes to look at him for a few seconds. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, well I guess we’re both just sad survivors.”

Nico smiled balefully. “Huh. I guess so.”

Things were easier after that. Coming up to the fifth floor became a part of his daily routine, and Will didn’t tell Nico, but he started recording the haunting tunes as best as he could on some loose music sheets he was able to find. However, despite his best efforts, Will couldn’t quite replicate the sordid effect of Nico’s viola. Each note seemed to be of its own unique timbre, not one that could exist on a musical staff. He considered asking Nico if he could give him a copy of the sheets, but after the conversation about his sister, Will decided not to push his luck.

He kept the music sheets in a binder along with a few other notes on his new acquaintance, something Will at some point realized bordered on creepy stalker. He reasoned with himself that the whole street was creepy enough, so gaining a few stalker-ish tendencies wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened to him.

Besides, he didn’t really count himself as stalker because even with the frequent late night visits, Will barely knew anything about the boy living upstairs. He knew that he had two sisters, Bianca, deceased, and Hazel who ran a jewelry store in California with her boyfriend Frank. He knew that Nico’s father was a banker and that his mother died when he was very young. He knew that Demeter was the mother of his father’s current girlfriend Persephone (“You don’t even know how awkward that is,” Nico complained grumpily). He also knew the favorite foods of Nico’s two best friends Reyna and Jason, but Will had little to no insight on Nico di Angelo himself.

So three months later when Will showed up with a Tupperware full of mango jelly at Nico’s doorstep for his regular visit, he really wasn’t to blame for dropping the jelly and nearly vomiting when he saw the mutilated corpse bleeding on the floor.

It looked like a woman’s body, but Will couldn’t tell for sure. There was a huge gash that ripped across her torso in what could only be the gross gory display of a B rated horror movie. There were black sockets where her eyes were supposed to be and oh god, were those maggots eating her—

“Will?”

Nico came out of the bathroom holding a giant obsidian sword out in front of him. Will must be hallucinating. Nico seemed angry.

“Will, I need you to step back. Please.”

Nico’s voice sounded so stern, but Will barely registered that. His heart thumped in his chest while his brain struggled to process what was happening. It must be the lack of sleep. All that academic pressure finally snapping on him.

“Will, back. Now.”

Will nodded numbly and stepped back until he felt his back press against the textured wallpaper. Every inch of his body was screaming at him to run for it but his feet were rooted to the ground. He watched silently as Nico gave him a surreptitious glance before creeping around the body. His head was whirring— _what was happening? Who was the woman on the floor? Did Nico kill her? Oh my god, have I been living under a serial killer?_ Nico held the sword out in front of him and sat down on his knees. He seemed to be chanting something—Latin? Will wasn’t quite sure, but the dark glances Nico kept sending him every few seconds were seriously freaking him out. Also, was it just him or was the room getting darker?

The shadows began pulling in around them, sinking themselves into a deep abyss with Nico and the corpse at the center. Will felt his palms begin to sweat and his heart felt like it would leap out of his chest any minute. Finally, Nico lifted the sword and drove it straight into the corpse lady’s throat.

There was a large blast and an inhuman scream that split across the room. Will shut his eyes thinking it was over but then he felt an icy coldness snake around his arm. He snapped open his eyes and there staring right back at him was a pair of glassy translucent eyes that bled around the edges.

Will screamed.

He scrambled back trying to get away from the ghost—spirit, demon, whatever it was. The being simply stared back at him with those _eyes_ that looked so incredibly sad.  In the other side of the room, Nico cursed, picked up his sword and ran towards him. The spirit was drawing closer.

“ _βάλλ' εἰς κόρακας!_ ”

There was another blast but this time the room was engulfed in complete darkness. Will landed painfully on his rear, not the best thing that could’ve happened but definitely not the worst either. The darkness subsided after a few seconds, the shadows sneaking back into the walls, and Will let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the spirit (and the corpse) was gone. He saw Nico lying on the ground five feet away from him and dragged himself towards him.

“You okay?”

Nico was not okay. His face had gone deathly pale and his pupils were dilated and unfocused. He probably got a concussion from the blast.

“I’m fine.”

Will scoffed, but he could still hear his heart pounding in his ears. “Yeah, right. You’re barely conscious.”

“Says who,” Nico mumbled incoherently. His eyelids were already drifting close.

“Says me. Trust me, I’m a doctor. Well, almost a doctor—Hey, keep your eyes open, Demon Boy. I think you’re concussed.”

Nico grumbled something in response, probably along the lines of _don’t call me that_. Will ignored him, and carried the boy (he was disturbingly light), setting him down on the black suede couch. Once assuring that Nico was comfortable, or at least as close to comfortable as he could get, he left to go look for some first aid supplies. Will managed to find a washcloth by the sink and pulled out some ice from the freezer. He busied himself in the kitchen preparing the washcloth while trying to get his breathing back to normal. He felt sick.

Nico was still lying on the couch when Will returned, but he now had an article of jewelry—a necklace?— in his hands which Will was pretty sure wasn’t there before.

“What’s that?”

Nico didn’t answer. He set the necklace down next to him and struggled to sit up. Will pushed him back on the couch.

“Lie down,” he ordered as he placed the washcloth over his head. “You need to rest. I don’t know what that thing was or what you did to stop it, but whatever it was, you’re not doing it again.”

Nico glared at him, or tried to anyway. He looked like he was about to retort, but Will glared right back. “ _No_. Sleep. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Will realized that that probably meant missing most of his morning classes but it was two in the morning and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t get any sleep even if he tried so his chances of showing up to class were practically shot to hell anyway.

Nico scoffed, but he didn’t shoo him away so that was a plus. After a few minutes, his breathing began to even out until finally he was fast asleep. Maybe even snoring—yeah, definitely snoring. Will smiled and settled in an armchair.

Some part of his brain registered that maybe this was a bad idea. He had just found out that Nico di Angelo, age nineteen and one quarter, is actually a creepy exorcist (maybe?) with no sense of self preservation. He’s pretty sure he’s seen horror movies that start like this. But then the other part of his brain—the irrational but usually right one—reasoned that this dark twist was just the thing he’d been looking for. Adventure—something to do that wasn’t just textbooks and taxes.

So yes, he was very much aware that it isn’t standard protocol to stay in the creepy ass flat where you nearly got killed by a demon, but hell, he was traumatized, tired, and was running on barely half as much rest as he should be getting, so he curled up in Nico’s armchair and drifted off to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on tumblr! shell-forest.tumblr.com


End file.
